Title: The Smell of Death

By: Junkfoodmonkey

Rated: PG

Warnings: Spoilers for Without Reservations

Summary: Short piece, a sort of stream of consciousness of Face’s thoughts during the final scene of Without Reservations. Why Face is obviously not being sincere when he says “Oh great, pizza”; and what has BA got against anchovies?

Disclaimer: The A-Team doesn't belong to me; I'm not making any money from this. The dialogue belongs to Bill Nuss writer of the episode.

The Smell of Death

They brought me back from the hospital and wanted to put me straight to bed, but I insisted on staying up, so they’ve got me covered with a blanket on the sofa. Now Hannibal, BA and Frankie are hovering over me with those fixed smiles they’ve been wearing for days now, while the concern they are trying to hide leaks from their eyes. Although their presence is reassuring their attention is disconcerting. It’s like they can’t quite believe I’m still here.

“How’s the pain?” Hannibal asks.

”It only hurts when I breathe.” I answer, trying to be light hearted.

“You was out cold for a day and a half in the hospital.” BA says. I know this already. When I woke up BA was there, like a sentry guarding me. I saw his rare, real smile in that moment.

“They said you hit on two nurses while you were sedated.” Frankie tells me. This I didn’t already know. Two? I hold up two fingers. Only two, I am getting old. I just hope they were both female, they had some fine top grade morphine there at DC General. I was pretty out of my head for a while.

“Really, how'd I do?”

“You evoked great sympathy,” Hannibal answers, “They left their telephone numbers for you.” Oh great, sympathy dates, no wonder Hannibal sounded so patronising. Does a guy have to be gut shot to get some action around here?

The door opens and Murdock comes in with Gina, carrying bags and a pizza box, my gut tightens as the smell of the food hits me. Oh god no, why has he brought that? Doesn’t he know what that smell means to me now? The garlic, the onions, the tomatoes, they smell of pain and fear and blood. Of death.

“Gina and I thought we’d bring you all a little something from the restaurant.” He looks down at me. “How ya doing, pal?” He’s wearing the same fixed smile as the others, but his is more desperate, begging for my approval.

“Great, great.” I answer, trying to reassure him.

Gina gives me the first genuine smile I’ve seen from anyone in days, says ”We’ve never really met but Murdock’s told me all about you.” All? I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or bad thing. I just pray that Murdock’s current guilt means he only told her all the good things about me. I owe Gina a dinner when I’m back on my feet, she took good care of me in that kitchen and she must have been so scared.

“How's your father doing?” Hannibal asks Gina.

“He’s great, he’s in seventh heaven. After the news reports about him single handedly saving Liebster's life, the place has been booming.”

“And listen to this,” Murdock says. “I think I saw Stockwell's name on the register for tonight.” So Stockwell is going to the Villa Cuchina? Shame he wasn’t there that night to get shot instead of me. My god, what a terrible thing to think.

Murdock is opening the pizza box, says “Hey, hey”, presenting it. I try to ignore the smell of death coming from it, pretend to be pleased with his gesture. He’s so fragile with guilt right now.

“Look at this, look at this,” Frankie says enthusiastically, pointing out words spelled out in anchovies on the pizza, like I’m a child.

“Oh great, pizza.” I say, unconvincingly.

“Get well Face.” BA reads out, “Hmm, smells good.” He says, leaning over the pizza, then suddenly explodes “Anchovies!” Uh oh.

“Face likes anchovies…” Murdock says. It’s true; I do, though right now I’d sooner be back on that kitchen floor than eat this pizza.

”Nobody likes anchovies!” BA shouts. One day I’m going to have to ask him about his excessive hatred of small salty fish. Was he bitten by an anchovy when he was a boy?

“I like anchovies.” Murdock argues, but BA growls and grabs the pizza box away from him. Thanks big guy, get rid of that thing for me, please. Gina is smiling at their antics. I’m definitely going to take her to dinner. Just not Italian.

end